kept well in the rear, and apparently urged the lesser dogs on. The little dogs didn’t object, for little dogs are generally the most pugnacious. At this big dog Crusoe directed a pointed glance, but said nothing. Meanwhile a particularly small and vicious cur crept round by the back of the tent, and coming upon Crusoe in the rear, snapped at his tail sharply, and then fled shrieking with terror and surprise, no doubt, at its own temerity.
Crusoe did not bark; he seldom barked; he usually either said nothing, or gave utterance to a prolonged roar of indignation of the most terrible character, with barks, as it were, mingled through it. It somewhat resembled that peculiar and well-known species of thunder the prolonged roll of which is marked by cannon-like cracks. It was a continuous, but, so to speak, knotted roar.
On receiving the snap, Crusoe gave forth the roar with a majesty and power that scattered the pugnacious front rank of the enemy to the winds. Those that still remained, half stupefied, he leaped over with a huge bound, and alighted, fangs first, on the back of the big dog. There was one hideous yell, a muffled scramble of an instant’s duration, and the big dog lay dead upon the plain!
It was an awful thing to do, but Crusoe evidently felt that the peculiar circumstances of the case required that an example should be made; and to say truth, all things considered, we cannot blame him. The news must have been carried at once through the canine portion of the camp, for Crusoe was never interfered with again after that.
Dick witnessed this little incident; but he observed that the Indian chief cared not a straw about it, and as his dog returned quietly and sat down in its old place he took no notice of it either, but continued to listen to the explanations which Joe gave to the chief, of the desire of the Pale-faces to be friends with the Red-men.
Joe’s eloquence would have done little for him on this occasion had his hands been empty, but he followed it up by opening one of his packs and displaying the glittering contents before the eyes of the chief and his squaws.
“These,” said Joe, “are the gifts that the great chief of the Pale-faces sends to the great chief of the Pawnees. And he bids me say that there are many more things in his stores which will be traded for skins with the Red-men, when they visit him; and he also says that if the Pawnees will not steal horses any more from the Pale-
